Not-A-Birthday
by hiyoris-scarf
Summary: One year after Yukine's naming, Yato and Hiyori put together the party of the century. Well, at least the party of the year. (Okay, maybe it's just a regular party, but there's only so much you can do when half the attendees are dead and one of them routinely runs amok with Japan's fiscal stability.)


**I hope Ina likes this, since it's my Secret Valentine gift to her. ilyyy**

* * *

"Did someone say _party?!"_

Kofuku explodes into the attic, promptly trips on her sock, and lands with a thud across Hiyori's lap.

"Kofuk- _ow!"_

"Sorry, Hiyoriin," she trills, grinning in a very un-sorry fashion while rolling her body up and down Hiyori's legs.

"It's. A. _Secret_ ," Yato hisses, getting up to slam the door shut again. "So...maybe less of the shouting would be nice?"

Kofuku drags her fingers across her closed lips and tosses an invisible key out the window. She then sits up off Hiyori, who exhales in relief.

"So what are we planning?" she asks.

Yato and Hiyori cast uncomfortable glances at each other.

"Well, um," Hiyori begins. "Kofuku..."

"They don't want you splattering your bad luck all over the place while they put their plans together," Daikoku interrupts, as he slides the door open. He leans down to swoop Kofuku up into his arms.

"Is that true?" she asks, clinging to his neck. She turns her betrayed gaze toward Yato and Hiyori.

Yato nods eagerly, while Hiyori has the grace to look dismayed at Kofuku's disappointment.

"We have another job for you though, so don't worry!" she says quickly.

Kofuku brightens. "Really?"

"We sure do," Yato adds with a broad grin. "And it's the most important job of them all."

Yukine is confused.

Usually, Yato takes him on jobs all morning, then when Hiyori comes back from school she sets him up with his new assignments and works on her own. Yato always sits in the room, either playing some stupid game with himself or bothering them. Hiyori always smiles and humors him. This is their routine.

But today, that routine has changed.

"This'll be so much fun, Yuki!"

Kofuku hangs around his neck, her weight nearly strangling him.

"It will?"

"Of course! We're gonna go buy groceries, and we'll look in all the windows, and we'll flirt with strangers-"

As Daikoku sputters and untangles Kofuku's arms from around Yukine's neck, Hiyori offers him a reassuring smile.

"It's not just going to be the two of you, Yukine. There are a couple more who wanted to tag along, and they should be arriving any minute now…"

"They're here!" Yato calls from the doorway.

Yukine walks to the front of the house. Ebisu is there, Kunimi kneeling in front of him to scrape mud off the bottoms of his small shoes.

"Hello!" Ebisu waves at him. Then, he over-balances and topples over.

Through the window, Hiyori watches Yukine walk away. He is flanked on one side by Kofuku, Kunimi and Ebisu on the other.

Yato joins her, throwing an arm casually over her shoulders.

"That went so well!" he observes delightedly.

Hiyori ducks out from under his arm, shaking her head.

"I hope they don't run into trouble."

She shudders, briefly considering the mass havoc Kofuku could instigate if she were left to roam loose in the city.

Yato scoffs.

"They'll be _fine_. Quit worrying! It's the party day!"

Hiyori gives an uneasy smile. Then her head snaps up as she remembers:

"Oh...that's right! Yato, I invited some people over early to help get things ready."

"So you just…?"

Bishamon puts her lips gingerly over the opening of the balloon and blows, hard. At first there is an earsplitting squeal as the balloon empties again, followed by the faded guttering of the rest of the escaping air.

Yato collapses into giggles, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Bishamon, red-cheeked and panting from effort, glares at him.

"None of this is amusing." She looks skeptically at the limp little balloon hanging from her hand. "I believe this one has a malfunction."

"Viina, it's like this."

Kazuma takes the balloon from her hand, seals his lips around it, and points silently to his mouth to show her the correct technique. He blows enough air to inflate the balloon halfway, then pinches the end between his fingers and offers it back to her.

"See? Easy."

Yato and Hiyori watch, dumbstruck, as Bishamon takes the balloon back from Kazuma and squints at it like it's about to bite her.

"It really is that simple," she comments. Yato grinds his teeth together.

"You two really have _got_ to look at yourselves sometimes. It's nauseating."

One of Bishamon's eyebrows arches up toward her hairline. Kazuma coughs loudly and turns deep maroon.

"What is he talking about?" Bishamon asks Hiyori. One of Hiyori's eyelids starts to twitch, and she grabs Yato's wrist to tug him toward the kitchen.

"Come on! Let's work on the cake!"

Yukine drags his three companions out of the store with the shopkeeper's furious shouts still ringing in his ears.

"I didn't know it was possible to destroy that much merchandise in such a short amount of time," Ebisu remarks, while Yukine marches Kofuku in front of him at arm's length. She casts a mournful glance at him over her shoulder, tears quivering at the corners of her eyes.

"I thought those dresses would look better with cropped sleeves!"

"Yeah, but where did the pruning shears come from?!" Yukine bellows.

Ebisu turns to Kunimi and beckons him to lean down so he can whisper something into his ear. After listening, Kunimi nods in vigorous agreement.

As she trots ahead of Yukine, Kofuku's foot lands on an anthill. The four of them spend the next ten minutes shaking angry insects out of their socks, and Yukine has to wonder if he ever did anything bad enough when he was alive to warrant this.

"It's been so long since I got to bake anything!"

Hiyori sets the last of the ingredients out on the kitchen table, straightens her apron, and turns to Yato with her hands clasped against her chest. Her tail gives a particularly exuberant swish, nearly knocking over the butter tub.

"This has to be perfect, okay?" she says to him, the bare hint of danger in her request. Yato smiles reassuringly.

"Of course it'll be perfect! You've got a god helping you!"

This doesn't seem to impress her as much as it should.

From the other room, it's evident from Kazuma's loud coaching that Bishamon is still struggling to blow up balloons.

"Where's Daikoku?" Hiyori asks, beginning to work up a sweat as she mixes the dry ingredients.

"I think he went to go buy more sake," Yato says, vigorously cracking eggs. Hiyori, wide-eyed, lets her own bowl go unmonitored in favor of watching him effortlessly separate the whites and yolks.

"Yato…?"

He looks up at her.

"Oh-this? Yeah, I worked in a bakery for a few years."

He has already told her this, but for some reason Hiyori pictured him a member of the clean-up crew. After all, most of his jobs are tasks people never truly want to perform themselves.

"What did you do there?" she asks.

Yato snatches the bowl away from her and begins whisking the egg whites into the cake mix with a flourish.

"The baker who owned the business got very sick and needed surgery, but he couldn't find anyone to replace him to keep the business running. Then, he found my number, and all was fixed!"

Yato keeps stirring the dough, chopping the spatula through it to mix all the ingredients equally.

"My client only wanted someone to keep an eye on the place until he could return, but his recovery ended up taking almost a full year. Turns out he liked the retired life so much that he kept me there for another two years."

Hiyori's jaw drops.

"So...you ran a bakery for three years."

Yato cocks his head, still stirring.

"I suppose. My name was never anywhere on the business though."

"Still, it was all _you_. You kept his bakery open for three years, all on your own."

Yato shrugs.

"He paid me."

Oh-right. Hiyori sometimes forgets that detail, and her shoulders relax marginally.

"How much?"

"Five yen per month. That was the most income I got for a long time, actually."

He says it so matter-of-factly, with no hint of bitterness.

"I think he should have paid you more."

She says it quietly. The stirring slows just a bit, but Yato is only checking the texture of the dough to see if it's satisfactory.

"Huh...maybe. But it isn't like I got _nothing_ out of it. I learned how to make all kinds of things, Hiyori!"

He scoops up a pinkyful of the dough and pops it into his mouth. His eyes dart up to her face, and his own freezes in that comic expression.

"Something wrong?" he mumbles around his finger.

Hiyori shakes her head strongly, digging her knuckles hard into her eyes.

"N-nope! Nothing! I got flour in my eye."

"You sure?" His nose wrinkles. "Hiyori, I won't let you help me with the frosting if you keep any secrets."

She glares, having safely wiped the traitorous moisture from the corners of her eyes.

"I'd like to see you stop me!"

"I wonder how many times I'm going to have to remind you, Hiyori, that I'm a war god."

"Really?" Hiyori waves an accusing finger at him. "Because you look a little bit _too_ comfortable in that apron."

Yato looks down to survey his eclectic wardrobe: the tracksuit and fluffy fluff complemented by a frothy white, adamantly ruffled apron with KISS THE COOK emblazoned across the front in curly, powder-pink letters.

"I found it hanging in the closet, and I thought it was Kofuku's...but it seems a bit big for her," Yato says, tugging at the long straps. It occurs to both of them simultaneously that there is only one other person in the house for whom the apron could be intended.

Bright peals of laughter echo out of the kitchen, causing Bishamon and Kazuma to look up from their scissors and the growing mound of Yukine-snowpuff cutouts.

"They must be having fun," Bishamon says, allowing one corner of her mouth to soften upward. Kazuma smiles indulgently.

"They must indeed."

Yukine finds himself sitting on a bench at the edge of the park. Kofuku is rolling around in the grass a little ways off, gleefully unbothered by the four bankruptcies her tour through central Tokyo has caused.

"Lucky we brought Ebisu," Yukine mutters to himself.

Kunimi had taken the little god on a journey of repair to all the businesses Kofuku had touched. Yukine, after safely depositing the binbōgami in the park where all she could injure was trees, had gone back to join them. Ebisu and Kunimi had already moved on to the second shop, where the former was cheerfully offering the distraught owner advice on credit ratings, administrative claims, and liquidation. Yukine had stopped to listen for about five minutes, found himself yawning, and decided his time would be better spent supervising Kofuku.

A bubbly, electronic jingle upsets the quietude of the park, and Yukine jumps. Kofuku bounces upright and plucks her phone from her bodice.

"Helloooo~" she warbles. He glances over in curiosity. Kofuku's chin is bobbing up and down vigorously as she sings: "Okay...okay. Okayyy. Okay!"

She snaps the phone shut and squashes it back down into her bra, then hurtles upright and grabs Yukine by the wrist.

"Come on! Let's go find Ebi-chan!" she squeals.

"Kofu- _gah!"_ Yukine grunts as she hauls him to his feet.

She doesn't let go of him while sprinting toward the street, and Yukine does his best to stumble along behind her. They are headed back to one of the flower shops she had dragged them into earlier.

The florist screams when she sees Kofuku again.

"Maybe you should stay outside," Yukine tentatively suggests. She pouts, but complies.

Yukine walks in to find Ebisu and Kunimi sequestered in the back room of the shop, neck-deep in mortgage papers and bank statements. Ebisu looks up at Yukine from his cross-legged seat on the floor.

"Sorry, we got distracted."

Yukine squints at the number-riddled documents spread out in front of the little god.

"Who wouldn't be?"

A muted series of knocks carries into the back room, and Yukine takes a few steps out to find its source. Kofuku has plastered herself against the front window of the shop, rapping her knuckles rhythmically against the glass.

"Yuuuukiiii, come on! Let's go!"

The nervous shopkeeper slinks out from between the rows of flowers, obviously desiring nothing more than to get them all out of her establishment as quickly as possible. Yukine swallows, dredging up an apologetic grimace for her benefit before he ducks into the back once again.

"We'd better leave."

Kunimi nods silently, scooping Ebisu up from his small island in the midst of the sea of finance documents.

Kofuku is still waiting outside, dancing with what could either be impatience or the immediate need for a bathroom.

"Hurryhurryhurry!"

She snatches Yukine's wrist and plows ahead, Kunimi easily matching her speed with his long strides.

Hiyori has to snag Yato by the fluffy-fluff and drag him down to the kotatsu with her to stop his flurry of last-minute activity.

"You're going to ruin the surprise if you don't _calm down,"_ she warns.

Bishamon and Kazuma are safely tucked out of sight upstairs, along with new arrivals in the form of Tenjin, Tsuyu, and Mayu. Daikoku returns from stowing the last of the gift bags in the closet, and snaps a cell phone shut in his fist.

"My goddess says they'll be back in about five minutes."

Hiyori can sense Yato vibrating with excitement next to her. Looking over at him, she notices a long smudge of flour across his cheekbone. She licks her thumb and swipes it off without thinking. His breathing stops. After a long, sincerely uncomfortable second, he gives her a look. Hiyori's entire face suffuses deep scarlet.

"Um. You. You had a-a little-"

"Oh." He swallows. "Thanks."

Behind them, Daikoku groans and shakes his head. At that moment, Mayu blessedly pokes her head out from the stairwell. The three of them turn their heads in her direction.

"I saw them from the window," she says in a stage whisper. "They're coming!"

Yukine is exhausted, and hungry, and more than a little bit irritated that everyone else seemed eager to shuffle him out of the house to babysit a walking apocalypse.

Well. Ebisu and Kunimi had come along too...but they hadn't been much help.

"He's gonna pay," Yukine growls, savagely scuffing his feet on the doormat before walking inside. " _Yato!_ Get down here!"

No answer. His voice echoes back to him, hollow. No sign of Yato, Hiyori, or Daikoku anywhere on the premises. Yukine, baffled, walks farther inside. He doesn't notice his three companions are still lingering by the doorway.

A choked snort from behind him makes him turn around, only to see Kofuku stuffing both sets of knuckles into her mouth to keep her giggles in check. Her face is a shade of strawberry-pink that easily surpasses her hair.

"What's going o-"

" _SURPRISE!"_

A horde of people bursts out of the stairwell. Yukine is at once enveloped in a cyclone of hugs and hair ruffles and shoulder pats and a slap on the back from Daikoku that sends him crashing against Yato's chest. The god hauls him upright, then pulls him into such a tight embrace that Yukine turns an immediate and dangerous shade of purple.

"He might enjoy some air now," Tsuyu gracefully suggests.

Yato lets Yukine break away. He gasps a few times before wheezing out:

"What the...?! What _is_ this?"  
Hiyori grins at him over Yato's shoulder.

"Today, you've been Yato's shinki for exactly a year!"

"That's right," Yato says, wiping his eyes with a theatrical flourish. "Look how far you've come, from that bratty, whining, annoying, short-tempered little-"

Hiyori smacks the back of his head, and Yato sputters on the end of his sentence.

After the commotion, there is suddenly silence. Everyone looks at him. Yukine's eyes get extremely hot.

"Oh."

They all seem to be waiting for him to say more. He clears his throat.

"Well...it feels like _way_ more than a year." He grimaces. "Especially when it's Yato."

Mayu makes a sympathetic noise, and Daikoku grunts in agreement. Yato, on the other hand, ruffles his hair affectionately and mercilessly.

"Better get used to it, kiddo."

Yukine quickly bats Yato's hand away, and swipes at his nose in embarrassment.

"Hey, I got you something!"

Yato darts away, then returns bearing an armful of gift bags. He dumps them down next to the kotatsu, then picks one to shove into Yukine's chest. As though on cue, the rest of the guests settle into their chosen seats on the floor, leaving enough space for Yukine between Hiyori and Yato.

Yukine sits down to pluck the paper out of the bag. He reaches in and draws out...

"A tracksuit?"

Yato nods enthusiastically.

"We're gonna maaatch~!"

Yukine holds the tracksuit up, looking at it dubiously.

"Do we have to?"

Yato ignores him, far too impressed with his gift-giving abilities to notice anyone else's reaction. Hiyori takes advantage of the distraction to nudge her own gift bag against Yukine's knee.

"I hope you like it."

He opens it to find a large box of colored pencils, brand-new and shiny.

"For homework," she clarifies. Her ears are slowly turning pink. "Or...whatever…"

"Thanks, Hiyori."

Yato shoves himself between them.

"Stop having a _moment_ without me!"

"We were-we were _not_ having a 'moment!'"

"I just wanna be included!"

"Yato, please-ow! Let _go_ -!"

Yukine sighs, leaving them to their scuffle. He opens the gift from Daikoku and Kofuku (a pair of warm capyper-print socks), and one from Tenjin (a book of his own original poetry, for which Yukine tries very hard to look grateful). The final gift in his hands comes from Bishamon and Kazuma. It's much larger than the rest.

"This actually...isn't from us," Kazuma says. The space between his eyebrows has a peculiar softness. Yukine hesitates before accepting the large bag.

Inside is a tiny, green sapling, its roots nestled in a deep pot.

Yukine finds himself suddenly unable to clear the blockage in his throat. His arms curl around the pot, anchoring it against his stomach, and he says _thank you_ , silently, to the other dead boy who always smelled like sap and summertime.

Bishamon reaches out, cupping one of the nearly-transparent leaves between her palms.

"Perhaps, you can plant it next to his."

The cake makes it out of the kitchen unscathed, but only because Hiyori is the one retrieving it. To her satisfaction, the frosted snowpuff-Yukine on its surface is still unmarred.

She hands Yukine the knife so he can make the ceremonial first cut. He angles himself carefully away from Kofuku before doing so. Everyone gathers around to watch the blade slide into the cake, Kazuma offering much unsolicited advice on the safest way to hold a knife.

Hiyori draws back a bit to give the rest of them more space. She regards the cluster of heads with deep fondness.

"Did we do good?"

She jumps, whirling around at Yato's breath right on the back of her neck. The first thing she notices is the way his forehead is all drawn up in agonized wrinkles. Hiyori takes a breath to answer, but before she can, a groan of mixed amusement and anxiety goes up behind her. Both she and Yato look back at the rest of the group.

Kofuku has managed to paint most of Tenjin's face the same bright white as the cake frosting. Mayu and Tsuyu fuss over him as Daikoku quickly moves the cake a safe distance away from his goddess.

But the sound that had caught Hiyori's attention was Yukine's carefree laugh, ringing high and loud above the rest. At that sound, Yato's shoulders visibly relax.

"Yes," she says. After waiting a few short moments, Hiyori carefully slides her fingers between his.

"I think we did very good."


End file.
